Least Shall be Loved
by MyMadness
Summary: She was stoic about what Mary had done. Edith found she had gone oddly cold over it, even though she knew that her sister had surely ruined her chances of marrying Sir Anthony. With a deep breath, she headed down the track. !Now neatly tied up!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I find this couple to be a challenge, but I HAD to try to fix them. God, knows if I will manage it. Luckily, Sir Anthony is much more at ease and fun when in his own environs...**

* * *

She was stoic about what Mary had done. Edith found she had gone sort of oddly cold over it, even though she knew that her sister had surely ruined her chances of marrying Anthony Strallen.

She grabbed her hat and an umbrella early in the morning. With a deep breath, then she headed off down the track. She did not spare her house a single look back.

Mary would expect a confrontation over what had happened at the garden party, but Edith wouldn't bother, she decided.

She found she was thinking in another direction today.

This feud had brought none of them any good. And it had been horribly unfair to Sir Anthony. That Mary wanted to hurt her, she completely understood. But it was too much suddenly that Sir Anthony would find himself cut down by her sister, as well.

She would go to see him and try somehow to explain. She did like him, quite a bit really. And forgetting any hopes of marriage, she simply did not want the poor man to believe the things Mary had said.

/ / / /


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: I am unsure about this. But here goes..._**

/ / / /

It was obvious that Sir Anthony was surprised to see Edith when she met up with him in the orchards behind his house. His manner was stiff at first, but it changed as he perceived her distress.

"Sir Anthony," she sighed. "Mary told me what she said to you. Well, she bragged she said enough to drive you off. She was getting even with me." Edith relayed this as calmly as she could given that she had thought of nothing else since the previous night.

"Getting even?" the gentleman replied, seeming slightly confused.

"I have been unkind to her, perhaps." Edith looked up to the sky then while she thought better of that statement. "In honesty, I have decidedly done some harsh things to her. I could try to excuse it by saying I couldn't tolerate the way she treated me any longer, but a better woman would have turned the other cheek. I only made things worse. I had thought that if the things I did were based in truth that somehow excused what I did. But the end result is that she has said some despicable things to you," Edith stressed. "So, I've come to apologize."

She had launched into all of this without even exchanging greetings. He reached for her elbow now and urged her to walk with him to the house.

"Her comments were completely fabricated? As part of some dispute between you two?" This idea seemed somehow foreign to him.

"Yes," she said, still seeming ashamed.

"I have seen how Mary can ... work at manipulating those around her," he told her. "It wasn't that I believed that you would say those things, but she did fill me with enough doubt about _**myself **_ that I couldn't stay," he explained.

Edith nodded, "Something I realized is that if you and I had known each other better, hopefully, she couldn't have come between us at all."

"You are a very wise girl, Edith."

They walked quietly then while he seemed to be mulling over the whole strange occurrence.

"I had tried to be practical about what you might feel for me," he told her. "I did not want to over estimate your regard for me."

She smiled before she asked him, "You are not used to being appreciated?"

"I'm not always used to even being noticed, truth be told. And I am rarely ever understood."

"I can sympathize with that," she said with a nervous smile.

"I know you can. But I noticed you. I'd like to think I understood you. And I was happy that you had at least noticed me," he said, good-naturedly. "These past weeks, I've found you to be wonderful company and so very bright. But more than that..." he told her with a touch to her arm.

They had arrived at the front of the house. "How did you get here?" he asked suddenly, as he looked around for any evidence of the car or the rig.

"I walked some of it. I got a ride from one of the farmers... I wasn't thinking about anything but getting here. When I woke up this morning, all I knew was that I needed to set this right. I didn't plan it out, I suppose," she said, sounding embarrassed.

He was looking at her as if there was something new there. He seemed touched that such emotion had prompted the visit.

"But how could your parents have let you?" he wondered finally.

"They don't know."

"Edith..." he admonished, as he came to a sudden stop in front of his door.

"It isn't as if they'll miss me even." She ducked her head. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous. The important thing is that you forgive me? If I hadn't been feuding with Mary. ..."

"Yes. Yes. I forgive you. I forgave you a hundred yards back," he joked. "Forgiving Mary will be a tad more difficult. But I might even manage that."

"Thank you," she said with an easier smile. "I won't bother you then anymore. I'll go. "

"Stay to lunch, Edith. Or are you in a hurry to get home?"

His expression showed he knew the answer.

"No. I don't really need to rush off... if you are sure you aren't tired of me. "

He took her hand and twined it in his. "I am only now getting to know you properly, I think. I am certainly not tired of you."

As they walked through his hall, he gestured off to a side table. "I've a telephone now, too. I haven't had the need for it before today. But we could call over to Downton Abbey and let them know you are here. I'll tell your mother I'll return you this afternoon," he said with a tentative smile.

"Must you? Tell them anything, I mean. "

/ / /


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I was chatting with an 82 year old about her wedding night, and it was a rather scary conversation. She had apparently been allowed to get married without having any of the facts about 'expectations' or even raw mechanics explained to her. **_

_**She was fairly upset when she saw her mother the day after the wedding night. Her mother cried over it when asked why she'd let that happen. **_

_**My acquaintance then marched her younger sisters into a room and explained all. I would have to believe her version of 'the whole of it' was not really positive.**_

_**I guess I had some of that in mind when I wrote this.**_

/ / /

Lunch was spent sitting close together and chatting about the estate and the war. She felt he _**did**_ understand her. She revelled in knowing that he did not think less of her ideas because she was young or a woman.

"Enough dour talk," he pronounced once they stood from the table. "I think, as your host, it is my responsibility to lighten the mood now." He was a different man here at his estate. More confident. More lively, she saw. And she enjoyed seeing him this way.

They spent the next hour in his sitting room, laughing over a game of cards. "You cheated," she pronounced. "And you cheated to let me win."

He took the deck from her to prevent her inspecting it and did not release her hand then. Quietly, he told her, "I like seeing you win." He drew her hand to him and kissed it.

"But, I need you to forgive me now, Edith," he continued.

"Why? What is it?"

"I had my butler telephone your mother. I couldn't stand that they might worry over you. Really, I would have you here indefinitely. But they expect you for dinner," he said almost impishly.

_'I would have you here indefinitely.'_ The words were flirtatious. The whole day had been a wonderfully sensual change from a relationship marked by too much practicality.

"I was going to finish checking the grafts in the orchard," he told her then. "Do you want to come with me? Or would you rather stay here and relax? Or I could take you home right now?"

He was still holding her hand, and it was that and the soft look to his eyes that made her say, "I wouldn't care where we were going. I'd just like to be with you. You have made a truly rotten time in my life unbelievably pleasant, Anthony. I don't know how you did that. When I got here this morning I was so... despondent."

There was a long silence then while they regarded each other. Finally, he leaned in to kiss her. It was the softest of kisses. A test. A request for a reply. When he paused, she stayed close to kiss him further. He obliged her one more time and for far longer.

"That was lovely," she murmured before she realized she had said anything out loud. She blushed now and tried to turn her head away. But he petted at her check, and she saw that he was smiling happily. With his touch, he was asking her if she wanted to kiss him again, she knew. And she did.

_'God, he is marvelous at this,' _she thought as his lips travelled from her mouth to her throat. He moved slowly, as if in question. With quiet deference should she want him to stop.

But she wanted to do some of the kissing, she decided. She nudged his chin gently so she could find his lips. And she leaned in eagerly. She parted her lips in answer to the way he kissed her, then nearly groaned to feel him deepen the kiss.

Just as she worked up her courage, he eased back.

"Did I do something wrong," she whispered. "I don't actually know what I am doing. I've never ..."

His touch and the look on his face were reassuring then. "Shh, no. But, I shouldn't continue without telling you how fond I am of you. How lovely you are to me. I shouldn't take these liberties without telling you, I'd like you to be my wife."

"Would it be like this?" she blurted out. "Afternoons together. The kisses?" She felt like such a child that she did not understand these things better.

"Would you want that? To have me kiss you like this every day?" he ventured.

"I think so."

She leaned in then to have him kiss her again.

He wrapped an arm around her, and she found the courage to put her hand at his waist.

The contact made her feel liquid inside after the initial fright. She knew she had trembled.

"You are worried about something," he surmised, as he pulled back.

"I know all marriages are not the same. Everyone has their own expectations." She avoided his eyes then, feeling embarrassed. But she continued, after the briefest pause for internal panic. "I've seen outsiders make assumptions about some marriages being loveless ones. Or merely a good match. 'Any port in a storm,' I've heard a likely man called... But what would _**our**_ marriage be like?"

He considered that, his mouth gaping for a moment. He was obviously lost as to how to answer.

He offered her a hand up. "Let me show you the rest of the house, perhaps, while we talk?" he told her.

She was silent, and looked confused, but she walked with him.

"You are thinking that I am an odd sort that I would give you a tour of the house while proposing marriage. It is not pure practicality," he then whispered as they headed up the stairs. "There are two bedrooms here," he said, indicating the doors on one side of the upstairs hallway. "They are joined by another room. Let me show you," he said, as he pushed through the first door.

She turned in a circle and smiled as she took in what was obviously his room. She approved of the bookish quality to it. "It is just as I would picture it," she told him.

"But it isn't this room that matters," he told her quietly. He led her through the adjoining dressing room to another, larger chamber.

"And this bed room, if you accepted me, I would expect you to make up as it pleased you. To decorate and change it as you would. But I would hope we would not adhere to staying in our own rooms... alone," he said pointedly.

She looked at him. And then at the bed. And then walked for the window.

"What is it you are unsure of, Edith?" he asked softly.

"I am completely unequipped to answer even that, suddenly."

"Play house with me a little more then. Come here," he called from the far side of the bed. He sat down on the mattress and motioned for her to join him. Once she was sitting across from him, he surprised her by lying down on the coverlet. His hands were clasped across his stomach now and his ankles crossed.

She laughed. It was not at all a lurid bedroom pose, and she had to silently thank him for that.

"Now you," he encouraged.

She lay down as well, a bit stiffly, and with a nervous look on her face.

They were not even touching. Despite their sharing a bed, they were actually further apart than when they had kissed, she realized.

He took her hand then. "If we were married, I would like to lie with you like this at the end of the day. And we could talk. About everything and anything. I would tell you how lucky I was that you had married me, and you could agree," he joked.

"And perhaps, I would kiss you?" she prompted in a small voice.

He rolled onto his side then to look at her, and he breathed deep before he told her, "I would most definitely want to kiss you."

"What about that part? The whole of it, I mean..."

"Did you mind kissing me before?" he wondered.

"No."

"So, the problem isn't that it's me?"

"No!" she objected quickly.

"What have you heard, Edith, that has you worried...about 'the whole of it?'"

She didn't answer. But she didn't need to.

"I am a careful, patient man, Edith. There is the getting past the newness, is all." He saw a bit of doubt in her eyes. "Really," he told her with a little laugh. "I would kiss you and wait for you to want it, too. And I would know that you were ready."

She sensed his words were a bit coded.

"What do you mean? 'Ready,' quite specifically," she asked, sounding too analytical.

"I think maybe we have been specific enough for today." He moved to roll out of the bed, but she stopped him with a hand to his sleeve.

"Yes, Anthony. Yes, I will marry you. And soon, if we might?"

She kissed him then. Wrapped her arm around him and drew him closer to feel him all along her. They kissed for long minutes.

She pressed her head into his chest then.

"We are in dangerous waters now, Edith. Let me take you home."

"Soon, but not now," she tried to barter. She pressed tighter against him then, enjoying the warmth and intimacy of it.

He moaned. "Now," he scolded. "I think we have teased each other enough."

...

They pulled up outside Downton Abbey in his car. Neither moved to leave the vehicle, however, even long after it was stopped.

"I feel all... queer inside," she told him finally.

He looked at the house and then back at her. He squeezed her hand where it lay between them.

"Perhaps, it's turned all funny because things felt as if they had changed when we were alone. But being home, you think maybe things can't change at all? It's all right to be unsure," he told her softly. "Just tell me what I'm going to do when I walk in there. I will understand if you need more time to think about this. So, Edith... am I merely returning you home, or am I informing your father we'd like to be married?"

/


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: God knows what I have accomplished tonight other than ignoring the dust bunnies here and failing to get the laundry done. But here is the last chapter of this story. Thanks so much for reading it. :)**_

* * *

After an initial few seconds of obvious shock and a nudge from his wife, Lord Grantham ordered that a bottle of wine be brought up to toast the newly engaged couple. The wine was dispensed and glasses raised. But Mary hung back, looking like she had suddenly lost her bearings. Edith did not even spare her a glance. She was looking at her fiancé.

Anthony was a tad tongue tied again now that they were in company. Edith found it oddly endearing. She smiled as she took his elbow. But she did more then. She leaned into him with a posture that spoke of their new ease.

"Come to rescue me, darling?" he asked.

"Always."

The obvious report between the two did not go unnoticed. Cora froze there, her glass at her lips. Her husband swayed a tad as if unwell.

A confused Mary went oddly flushed and ducked out the door.

"It has been a wonderful day," an oblivious Anthony announced. "But I don't dare extend it. I should go. And tomorrow, we can talk of dates and arrangements."

There was the leave taking. The shaking of hands. And Edith stated she would see Anthony out. In the foyer, William helped him on with his coat and then faded away.

"I'll walk with you to the car," she said seeming shyer now.

"Good," Anthony told her, bending his head to hers.

It was still a bit light outside. She had hoped for the cover of darkness. For a chance to kiss him good bye unnoticed.

He became that man he was with her once they were clear of the house. He was more confident suddenly. And all hers. "What are you thinking?" he asked. And in a quiet, hidden motion, he took her hand.

"That this is our 'good night.' And that I prefer our earlier notion of what that would be like."

"I think I will sleep in that bed tonight. Remember it all. Maybe the pillow will still smell like your hair."

She grinned at him, and then she asked, "Do you think we are being watched?"

"Yes. Most definitely," he laughed. "Do you want me not to kiss you?"

"Maybe a small kiss would be best."

"I will kiss you like it's Sunday after supper, but I'll be thinking of this afternoon." And he leaned in slowly then and pecked her on the lips.

Xxxxxx

Later that night, her mother came to her in her room. Sybil followed, pushing open the door before Lady Grantham could close it. "I wanted to hear about today," Sybil demanded.

"This morning," Edith began, "I went to see Anthony so I could apologize for the things Mary had said to him. Because I felt responsible."

"What things? What is going on?" her mother asked.

"Mary tried to poison things between you!" Sybil gasped.

"I don't blame her," Edith said. "Not now... I apologized to him because I felt horrible knowing he'd been slandered just by being caught in between us. I wasn't trying to win him back. That didn't seem as important, and frankly, it didn't seem possible. Not when I felt as disgusted about myself as I did."

"But when did he propose?" Sybil wanted to know.

"Shush, Sybil," Cora said. "But do you think you will be happy with him? He seems to make you happy. Am I right?"

"Everything is different when we are alone together," Edith confirmed. "Neither of us is out shone. We find it easy to talk. Today, we had a lovely lunch, and we laughed all through a game of cards. And he kissed my hand."

"And that is when he proposed," her mother said, sounding sure she was right.

Edith was blushing suddenly, and Sybil leaped on the truth. "He kissed your hand? Oh, I don't think we are hearing half of the story."

"We kissed a bit," Edith admitted with her eyes down. "And then he asked me to marry him. I was a bit childish then, I'm afraid. I asked him what it would be like being married to him. Before I had only thought of marriage as finding a suitable man - not the day to day bits that follow. And I wanted to know if this was that sort of merely practical exercise. Or..."

"Something passionate?" her sister exclaimed.

"Sybil!" her mother admonished.

"Something more comfortable," Edith said. "But, yes the other, too. He showed me upstairs. The bed chambers," her elder daughter continued.

"He did not!" Cora cried.

"We lay in the bed together and talked."

"I have never heard of such a thing," her mother objected.

"Certainly, you and father talk in bed," Sybil huffed.

"We are married. This just all seems so very ... perhaps not completely objectionable, but it is unlike Sir Anthony. At least I would have thought..."

"I'm sure he was a gentleman about the whole exercise," Sybil said with a grin.

"A perfect gentleman," Edith said, but she couldn't stop the blush that she felt rise through her. "He answered my questions. He never pressed for anything too physical. But he still let me know he found me ...desirable."

"Do you have any questions left over then for your poor old mother?" Lady Grantham asked, seeming shocked still.

Edith only smiled and shook her head.

"Well, then, I think I've heard enough for tonight," Cora concluded as the corners of her mouth began to creep up.

"I want to hear more!" Sybil nearly squealed.

"I won't tell any more," her sister said. "I think things should stay between he and I."

"Quite right," Cora told her.

Sybil left after hugging her sister. But Cora lingered by the door.

"If you have questions, though, you'll ask them, I hope. I don't want you blaming me for any sort of ... Unpreparedness. Most women are worried that it will be uncomfortable or horribly embarrassing..."

"I let him know I was worried about that..."

"I am feeling more and more superfluous. You talked to your intended about your impending wedding night?"

"That would seem to make more sense to me since he will be the one there," Edith pronounced.

"Oh, My Lord. You girls today. And are you still worried?"

"I was before. But not so much now."

"He is a wonder worker then."

Shyly, her daughter admitted, "The more I kissed him, the more likely the whole notion seemed. Physically."

"You realized that although some make it out to be a duty, that the marriage act might actually hold some appeal for women as well as men?" Cora asked with caution.

"Yes."

"Those must have been some pretty convincing kisses."

"Yes."

"Still waters..." Cora said, trying to rectify what she was hearing with her previous vision of Sir Anthony.

"You aren't going to tell my father any of this, are you?"

"I'll only allow that I now understand Anthony Strallan is _**not**_ as dull as paint. By any means."

/

_**A/N: I am not that fond of this story of mine. It feels a tad clunky. But it will end strong, I think. While it had been done, I now have a good (I hope) final chapter coming that will tie things up. Stay tuned. (Oh, God, my husband just walked in shhhhhhh! don't tell him I am planning MORE fanfiction!)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**The July following...**_

**_A/N: This does contain some Mary bashing. But with full eventual happiness. I am rushing a bit to put this up before I trod off to work._**

**_ahem: GO TEAM EDITH ! _**

**_

* * *

_**

Cora was so glad to have everyone back at Downton Abbey, even if it was only for a few days. It gave her a chance to pretend nothing had changed. At least not changed for the worse. Cora was all right with change, as long as it was for the better, she decided...

Sybil, Edith and Anthony were back from London, and Robert was back from the training depot at Aldershot.

Sybil and Mary had been told specifically not to make any plans for these few days.

The war had done all this. It had pulled the family in different directions. Made ridiculous choices seem somehow normal.

Cora had been nothing short of astonished when Robert had been recalled to active duty. She was sure that the army would send him home as soon as he reached London and the regimental headquarters. As soon as they realized the man was 47 years old, they would _certainly_ send him home...

But they hadn't.

Only a month later, Edith had followed Anthony to London when the War Department had recruited him.

Sybil had then insisted on going to London to work in a hospital there, as she would not be satisfied with anything less than the most difficult cases.

Mary had stayed behind with her mother.

But they were all together now, and it was a beautiful day. Edith was still inside for the moment, but Cora and Sybil sat in chairs facing the great lawn of Downton Abbey enjoying the weather. Mary stood behind them under their canopy. All of them were watching Robert and Anthony walk in the distance. The men were, no doubt, breaking Cora's recent house rule of no talk of the war for the few days they had together.

It was no surprise that it was Mary who broke the amicable silence. "At least the army is not so incredibly blind as to think it could call up someone as old as Sir Anthony." Of course, Mary was not actually happy that her brother-in-law had been saved from such a thing. They all knew, she was just spiteful enough that she felt the need to point out the man's age.

"He is only a year older than your father, just a little more worn," Cora sighed without so much as a glance at her daughter. "And as he has never been in the military, it seems late to start."

"Were you actually more aware, Mary, you would know that he is filling a very important post in London," Sybil said. "He is at Whitehall."

"What is at Whitehall?" And the thought that Mary nearly voiced was 'an old farmers' union?' but she knew her comments had fallen out of favor months ago.

"It is the Directorate of Military Intelligence. Section 6. MI6, they call it," Sybil told her.

"Intelligence?" the elder daughter seemed to mock.

Cora only shook her head, and then she informed the young woman, in the driest tones. "Yes, your brother-in-law and neighbor, whom you could have taken the time to get to know at any point in the past decade, is not only frighteningly intelligent, but fluent in German and French. And apparently some dead language, as well. But that really doesn't matter. At least not to you."

"And you are going to pretend that you knew this before 6 months ago?" Mary snipped.

"Yes," Cora replied with a well-practiced, social smile.

"And Edith _**had**_ to follow him out to London to live in some tiny place within walking distance of this... job." Mary asked.

"She works there, as well, Mary. I thought you had known that," Cora said.

"She is an assistant in his department," Sybil added, sounding pleased.

"She is a secretary more likely," Mary drawled.

"Apparently, your sister has a real head for codes," Cora said then with passable maternal pride.

There was a pause then. Some talk of the weather possibly holding. The women wondered when Edith would be joining them at last. And there was a mention of the tenant farmers and the church fete schedule.

"God help us," Mary then announced as she jutted her chin toward the two men still out in the field. "Sir Anthony looks like a blind parrot out there, squinting in the sun without his hat on. I do not call _**that**_ intelligent."

"Some men are bright to the point where they do have a bit of trouble with the day to day things," Cora sighed. "Luckily, he has Edith."

"Yes," Mary said, as if the word could poison.

"There she is now," Sybil said as she pointed toward the corner of the house. And she laughed good naturedly. "Edith is headed out to them and I am sure she has his hat with her."

"I'm sure she does," Cora commented.

"And I will bet you that rather than merely _**hand**_ it to him, she is going to put it on him, fawn over him, and then kiss him," Mary complained.

"Well, that would be a rather stupid bet for me to take," Sybil said with a biting smile. "Edith ALWAYS does it that way. I think we can call it a family tradition at this point."

"Must we?" Mary droned.

"No, _**you**_ mustn't, dear. Only we shall," Cora said with amusement.

"His hat is as bad as her dress. The two of them must be a huge hit in London..." Mary started.

"Oh, the dress isn't her fault," Sybil piped in.

"Sybil..." Cora warned.

"We aren't telling?" the youngest woman whispered to her mother.

"That announcement is for Edith to make at dinner tonight. Although, I can't believe your father needs telling. He has apparently gone as blind as a bat," Cora replied quietly.

"Well, Mary doesn't know either," Sybil quipped into her sleeve.

"What does any secret have to do with that horrid dress and the equally ridiculous hat?" Mary demanded from behind them.

"That hat we can't help," Cora said, pretending to sympathize with Mary. She paused then to chuckle as they watched Edith in the distance performing the feared hat ritual with her husband. Once they saw the hat was safely on the man's head and a kiss was placed soundly on his cheek, Cora continued. "It does at the very least keep the sun out of the poor man's eyes."

"The dress, Mary, is cut so horribly to hide the fact that Edith is pregnant!" a frustrated Sybil chimed in. "Whitehall wouldn't let her work any more if they knew."

"Pregnant? Good Lord," was all the eldest Crawley daughter managed.

Cora was beaming. "I can't wait. I really can't. She will have to come back here soon. And she will have the child here. And stay with us then. It will be wonderful to have a baby in the house."

Mary was feeling rather disorientated suddenly. Reality, at least her version of it ,was hopelessly set on its ear. The world was moving, it became quite clear. There was the notion of speed all about her as she stood there. Everyone and everything was going somewhere. Getting somewhere. While she was standing still. Rooted. Motionless...

...and quite obviously, she was the one who was lost because of it.

"You can see how happy they are from here." Sybil always was the sensitive one, so the comment didn't even surprise Mary now.

But she did wonder how Sybil had gotten to be... well, Sybil.

Mary stared at her now, and then looked out again to the trio. And for once, she tried to close out everything her mind was trying to tell her and just see the world the way her sister did.

"That is it, Mary." Sybil continued wistfully as she pointed at Anthony and Edith. "In case you are ever chasing joy, you can see there what it looks like."

They watched Lord Grantham, Edith and Anthony walk toward them. This was their signal to move from their spots and head inside for some refreshment. Sybil was already walking out to meet them, and Cora was left standing next to Mary.

"I was waiting for you to make some horrid joke complaining that you can't understand how she even got pregnant being married to Sir Anthony, Mary. Are you slipping?" her mother asked pointedly then.

"I'm not slipping. No. As of this moment, I am trying ever so hard to grow up, I suppose. I don't understand it. And I will never understand them," Mary said as if far away, her eyes locked on the couple ahead of her.

As Cora began to walk toward the approaching trio, she addressed her daughter. "No, you won't understand them, and _that_ is perhaps a better way to approach this rather than worrying about how they fail to meet some strange set of rules in your head,"

Cora had thought the conversation finished until she heard Mary's strangely poignant pronouncement.

"You are right, mother."


End file.
